Tin Man
by Crestfallen13
Summary: The silence smothered him, but Hichigo always fended it off. His world scared him, but Hichigo has changed that. But when Hichigo also uncharacteriscally falls quiet for once, Ichigo's fear is renewed. What's going on? ShirosakixIchigo YAOI
1. Chapter One: Silence

AN: This is my first HichixIchi fanfic. It's also one of my first yaoi fanfics, second to one previous one that just's on my Deviantart account, FoxFire315. (It's MattxMello from Death Note, btw.) I love this pairing, but it just doesn't get enough love for my liking. So when this idea sprung into my head, I had to type it. It just felt right. So I started it, and I like it so far. Hichigo won't show up until chapter two, but that's just the way things turned out. In any event, I hope you enjoy… Reviews and critique (not the violent kind, mind you) are welcome. I want to improve.

One more thing and I'll shut up. I really miss the way this looked on Microsot Word. The title... was so much prettier. XD

The meaning will become evident in time. Until then, just read the fanfiction.

DISCLAIMER: I do not, in any way, own Bleach or any of its characters. If I did, there would be a lot of boy on boy action, more Ishihime love, and Byakuya wouldn't have a stick shoved up his ass. (Okay, make that several sticks.)

**THIS IS A YAOI FANFICTION PEOPLE!**

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**Tin Man**

It was silent among the towering buildings that reached for the empty sky above. They were so close, so close to reaching that endless sky that sometimes, Ichigo felt that if he stayed too long within his own mind, that the buildings would pierce his sky, leaving him with a broken and shattered world, bits of sky raining down. Before Shiro had made himself at home among the buildings, there was silence that, like the sky, always threatened Ichigo somehow. The orange-haired teen feared that it would swallow him alive. Zangetsu did little to chase away those fears, although he had tried. Then Shiro came along. Shiro always found a way to chase away the silence, be it with violence or crude comments, Shiro always disbanded the silence that Ichigo hated. Shiro also had this habit of breaking buildings just for the heck of it, which, for whatever the reason, oddly reassured Ichigo that his world was secure. (Even with a psychopathic Hollow running amok.) At first he had hated it. It felt like a violation. Like, somehow, Hichigo was nothing more than an intruder in his life. Something to hate, something to be angry at, something to blame… Someone that was, and never would be, welcome. But, in time, when the realization that his world wasn't quite so scary anymore… Things changed.

Things were never silent in his inner world; that was just a fact that Ichigo had accepted long ago when Hichigo had taken residence inside of his head. There were the taunts always, or at the very least a snicker or random comment about nothing in particular. Even when things were… quiet… there was always the sound of Hichigo's silent poking and prodding at everything he held dear. When things were quiet, the air within his world was laced with malicious intent, scorn… something… The air would be so thick that if Ichigo tried, he could probably take it in both hands and run his fingers over it. Ichigo imagined the noise that might make, the way it would feel… The air was so loud and heavy that he felt it was possible. There was always, at least, the air. That was fact. Ichigo knew it. He knew it well. When things were quiet, and only the atmosphere spoke for Hichigo, the Soul Reaper knew not to venture into the 'sanctuary' of his own mind, in fear of being on the receiving end of an assault of some form or fashion, be it from his world, or the upset Hollow. If the air mixed with comments, the malice was aimed towards someone else, making it safe for him to enter his world and 'hold the mood' however he pleased. It was a reassurance. Hichigo probably knew. If he didn't…

…He was just that good.

But suddenly, it had grown silent. It was horrifically silent, with not even the air to whisper things to him, to disband his fear. Hichigo, for the first time in all of Ichigo's knowing of the Hollow, had fallen completely silent.

This frightened him.

Kurosaki perched on the edge of his seat, tuning out the teacher who rambled on about something of little or no importance. It was an upcoming school event, he bet. There had been flyers tacked to every visible surface of the cursed building; it wasn't that hard to figure out. Ichigo didn't care. He wasn't going: There were far more pressing things to attend to. The teen huffed, emotionally pushed to the limits. Absently, he glared out the window, repeatedly tapping his pencil against the desk with a flick of the wrist. His hair was disheveled; his shirt on backwards… and his friends now found themselves sitting a good five feet away, out of the danger zone.

No one could understand what the matter with the teen was. He just sat there, tapping his pencil, his knee jiggling up and down in agitation. No one dared talk to him right now. Keigo had tried to point out that his shirt was, indeed, backwards, only to get bitched at and then punched for no apparent reason. (Then again, when did Ichigo EVER need a reason to punch the moron?) That was today. Similar events had happened to other students who dared approach the ticking time bomb for the past two weeks. Now, there were a ring of desks that were unoccupied, cobwebs threatening to start to gather within their nooks and crannies that students usually occupied. Even Orihime was a little uneasy, constantly glancing up at the orange headed soul reaper in pure concern. It was unlike him. Sure, he had temper issues sometimes, but… nothing like this.

Orohime could see it clearer than anyone else. Her love for the boy made it so…

Ichigo resembled a caged animal, his eyes darting to the window, the sky, and then always returning to his desk, which, apparently, was the most fascinating thing in the room. His agitation, his shaking hands… and the fear that Orihime associated with all of the traits… It bothered her. What bothered her most was the fact that she had no clue as to what it may be. She usually read him so well… but now he was a closed book, and she just couldn't take a glimpse at the boy and understand. He had shut himself off completely…

Keigo sat nursing his cheek, slumping in the desk next to Orihime. He looked up to see how the teacher was fairing, and, upon seeing that her back was turned, sighed. "Psst… Hey, Orihime…"

The girl glanced up, blankly staring at the boy. "Hey… What's Ichigo's problem? You know him better than anyone… What the heck is up with him? He get dumped or something?"

"To be honest, Keigo-kun, I don't know…"

"Orihime, go talk to him or something! Ichigo's gonna kill us soon if we don't do something!!!" Overdramatic as always…

Sighing, Orihime glanced up, frowning. He DID look like he needed cheering up…

…but before that option was even remotely possible, the bell rang, and class was dismissed, leaving Ichigo to be the first to rush out of the classroom, eyes fixed firmly ahead. Orihime was left behind in his dust.

"….." The Strawberry continued to storm down the street, glancing this way and that before sighing. Alone, finally! "Hey. Shiro." No response. "Shiro, what the hell are you doing in there??" Still no response. What in god's name was going on??? Fine, if Shiro was going to give him the silence treatment, then he'd stop checking in on him like he had been for the past two weeks. That Hollow probably just thought it was funny, scaring the living shit out of him. Damn Hollow with its twisted sense of humor… With a 'har-umph', Ichigo continued on his way home, mulling over the silence.

He sat down to dinner, like always, and thought things over. Isshun and his sisters' conversation was tuned out, and he sat there, poking at his food silently.

_It's unlike him to be so quiet,_ he mused. _I can't remember the last time he was like this without bloodlust or anything. Huh. Wonder why… Was it something I said? ….Nah, the idiot could care less as to what I say. He'd laugh it off. I hope. Damn, I did say that it'd be better off if he died… Oh, wait, he already hit me over that._ That was as far as the Hollow's anger usually went with Ichigo. For other people, that wasn't quite the case. The Soul Reaper poked at his dinner, frowning. _Maybe it's just a phase. Ugh. I hope this stops soon… I'm going to go insane._ That's ironic. He had a person in his head that wanted to kill things and be rude, and HE was the insane one. Great.

"…-chigo. Ichigo, son?" Ichigo grunted to let him know he'd been heard. "Son, who's the lucky girl???"

"…What?"

"Why, Ichigo, you're in love!!! I can see it in your eyes! Oh, soon you're going to be married, and then I'll be a grandfather! Son, you better not be a deadbeat father, you hear me? MY GRANDCHILDREN DESERVE…!"

"WHAT THE HELL IS WRONG WITH YOU???? ARE YOU FREAKING INSANE???"

"DON'T YOU DARE MAKE HER CRY, BOY!"

"I DON'T EVEN KNOW WHAT YOU'RE FREAKING TALKING ABOUT!!!"

Karin sighed softly. "Ugh, not again."

Isshun soon turned the argument into a fight, and as always, Ichigo planted a kick in his face and sent him packing. Now seriously cheesed off, the boy slammed his chopsticks on the table, stood up abruptly (knocking over a chair in the process), and proceeded to storm up the stairs into his sanctuary- his room.

Swearing profusely, Ichigo paced to and fro, cursing his life, his father, his stupid hollow that wouldn't talk, his inner world, and most of all, himself. Why was he so worried? There was no freaking way he loved that Hollow.

Hichigo was violent, and loved Ichigo's pain. He lived to destroy and to cause terror. His whole purpose in life seemed to be to get under Ichigo's skin. There was no way he loved that Hollow. No way.

Even if the Hollow had relented somewhat in his assaults, now sitting by Ichigo like a civilized person and listening to whatever Ichigo had to say, as he did now, he'd never love him. Even if he'd try to help with whatever bothered him, as he did sometimes now, just to make the rain stop. Even if the Hollow would sometimes reach out for him, then pull away, gaze averted, like he sometimes did, Ichigo would NEVER love him… would he?

With a sigh, the teen lay in bed now, staring heavenward. "…Hichigo, you'd better start talking again soon. You're going to make me even more mental than I already am…"

That said, the orange haired teen allowed his eyes to drift shut, frown frozen upon his lips.

_I can't believe I'm saying this, Shiro, but I miss you…_

And then he slept.

He dreamt that night.

He was in his inner world, standing all by himself, eyes trained at the sky. It was raining heavily, and with a shudder, Ichigo wrapped his arms around himself tighter, trying in vain to trap in heat to his now shivering form.

It was odd, being on the receiving end of this rain. It felt so heavy, and so very cold. The soul reaper looked down at his shaking hands, trying to pull himself together, but… His eyes widened. His hands were white. His arms were white. The sleeves of his uniform were white… Was he in Shiro's body?

He returned his eyes to the sky, obligated to do so by the body that was no longer in his control. His lips moved on their own accord now…

"…If y'want me to die, I'll die. If it helps ya, I'll do it. If it makes ya 'appy, I'll do it…" Only bits and pieces came to him. The hollow's lips moved and no noise came out, then his voice would pierce through the silence, desperate.

With sick horror, Ichigo could only watch as the Hollow lifted his arms now, revealing the wrists to something unseen. "Cut me if ya want. I'll be a good Horse and let ya whip me if yah just take it back, eh?" He… rather, Hichigo… was now on his knees, pleading to a figure that Ichigo just couldn't make out."If ya take back th'awful stuff ya said, an'…" A shadow emerged, blade in hand, and before Ichigo could grasp what happened…

His 'body' crumpled like a rag doll, pain radiating downward.

But what scared him most…

…was when Hichigo started to bleed. The wound was inflicted, and the blood flew fast and furious, unheeding of Ichigo's inner pleading for it to stop. It wasn't just the wound…

…Shiro's body grew still, and the hollow lay there, smiling ear to ear.

Ichigo woke screaming, eyes burning from unshed tears. Imaginary pain coursed through his chest directly over his heart. Gasping for air, the Soul Reaper found himself desperately trying to wipe sweat away, unable to tell what was sweat and what was his own tears. His heart still ached, reminiscent of his dream. It felt so real. The dream felt so very, very real, and so very, very painful… Hastily he yanked his pajama shirt open, glancing down to make sure that the damage was only in his mind, not psychical. Nothing but his sweaty chest met his gaze, but the teen continued to sputter helplessly. Fear for his Hollow gripped him. Was he even all right? He had been awful quiet lately, and...

He and Hichigo needed to talk. Desperately…

…because Ichigo just KNEW that something was so very wrong. It coursed through his veins, and for the first time in Ichigo's life, he knew.

He knew it wasn't the buildings that scared him.

It wasn't the sky looming overhead in his world.

It wasn't even the threat of Hichigo taking over and controlling him permanently…

…It was something new that he just couldn't identify…

…but he knew was there with all of his being...

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AN: Well, that's that for that Chapter. I'm still writing this story- I'm already working on Chapter Two... I can't really think of much else. So please Rate/Review so I know where everybody stands, okay?


	2. Chapter Two: Twenty Questions

**TIN MAN**

A/N: Wow. Seriously. Wow. I'm thrilled by all of the positive feedback. This is by far the best response I've gotten to any of my published works. Which isn't saying much, as I've only put out... three stories prior to this. Thanks to everyone who reviewed, favorited this piece, and those who are now watching me. It makes the updates come faster. (But I'm doing this story for fun, so if I have no time, well... Obviously...) Eventually I'll get around to thanking everyone.

But I've got things that need done now. I updated earlier than I had planned as I won't be home this weekend. WHOO-HOO, SLEEPOVERS!!!

I STILL don't like the way fanfiction butchers the layout, but... Anyway, now it's time for the stupid disclaimer that no one actually reads.

DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN BLEACH. IF I DID, BYAKUYA WOULD NOT HAVE A STICK LODGED UP HIS BEHIND, AND THERE WOULD BE STUFF LIKE THIS FANFICTION CONSTANTLY. ALL RIGHTS BELONG TO SHONEN JUMP AND WHOEVER THE HECK WRITES BLEACH.

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**Chapter Two: Twenty Questions**

For the first time that week, Ichigo was able to enter his own mind. It took a few attempts, but finally, he found himself standing among his screwed-up world. Thunder soundlessly clapped overhead, and the Soul Reaper jumped, fear coursing through him suddenly. Silence again. Utter silence… again. The teen looked up, eyes widened and the same primitive fear running wild through his veins. It gripped his heart, making it race, as if trying to outrun the silence. It was no use, really: The damn silence was everywhere, all around him and beckoning for him to come closer… so it could eat him alive, no doubt…

"H-Hichigo, get your butt over here!"

No one came. Ichigo grew even more concerned… and another thunderclap shook his world, bringing no relief to the deafening silence, but succeeding in bringing the buildings to quake along with it beneath him. With a yelp, Ichigo fell onto his rear end, frantically trying to grasp a windowpane until the swaying stopped.

Kurosaki was pale. He was shaking in pure, unexplained fear.

As much as he wanted to leave, he knew he couldn't. Hichigo was way more important than his own damn fear. So with that in mind, the orange-haired fellow set off, occasionally stopping to gather his nerves.

"Hichigo?" No response.

Over and over he called, frantically searching his own mind. Zangetsu, also, was nowhere to be found. Ichigo was mad. He was furious, he was scared, it was worried…

…and he couldn't find either of them. Worst case scenarios ran through his head, like a broken record. Hichigo was dead. He had to be dead. _He died with a freaking smile, the bastard. Or maybe his throat got ripped open, and he can't talk anymore. Maybe he did it to himself! Oh, god, please let him be okay…_

From there, the scenerios got worse and worse. He wanted to cry. He wanted to fall down on his knees and scream.

Well, that was before he ran straight into the white 'pal' of his, who evidentially was laying there in a discreet spot, staring up at the sky. Ichigo tripped, falling skidding on his face, swearing on the way down. Hichigo just glanced at him before snickering and looking upward again. This resulted in both of them being sprawled out against the cold glass windows of the buildings (although one of them was a bit… rougher in the landing). Ichigo gawked at his Hollow counterpart, who, in return, smirked at his King, throwing in a glare for good measure.

"'At 'as 'at fer, King? Watch where da fuck ya're going!" The reply held less venom than usual…

Ichigo wanted to tell him to suck whatever the heck was bothering him up, but couldn't find the words. Instead, his mouth opened and closed repeatedly, much like a fish out of water. Hichigo sighed, standing and yanking Ichigo up with him, shaking his white head, black eyes trained elsewhere. "…Sorry, King. Didn't mean t'yell." The white haired man shrugged, refusing to look at him. That… was weird.

"H-Hey, don't freaking apologize! Wait. I mean, yeah, you should! What the crap's been into you lately? You won't even talk! It's annoying!"

Hichigo made no reply at first, instead choosing to look Ichigo dead in the eye, staring him down. "…"

Unnerved, Ichigo stood there, staring back. "Well?!"

"…I was just a'thinkin', King. Ain't no crime."

Ichigo nearly snapped. "THINKING? I'VE BEEN WORRIED SICK OVER YOU, AND YOU WERE JUST THINKING?!"

The Hollow shrugged, already trying to walk off and depart again. Silently…

Ichigo reached out and grabbed his arm, eyes wide. "Wait, I…"

Hichigo suddenly had an outburst, freezing in place and letting his mouth just run like he usually did. "King, why d'ya have feel'ins?" Ichigo just gaped. "Ya change 'em so of'en. Why's it rainin' so much lately? Some'un make ya sad?" Once the Hollow started, it seemed like he couldn't stop. "An… An it's been thunderin' lately, too. Ya angry?" Ichigo could only stare. "…What abou' th'lightnin'? There's ALWAYS lightnin'." As soon as the Hollow spoke, Ichigo could see exactly what he meant. Every few thunderclaps, a bright bolt of lightning would strike down, sending a chill down his spine. "Ya stormin', Kingy. I don't 'ike it. Stop."

"…What?"

Hichigo grew angrier. "STOP IT!" He turned abruptly, black eyes meeting Ichigo's in pure unadulterated rage… but rage wasn't the only thing evident. Tears threatened to slip from his dark eyes, and the creature suddenly tried to bolt, vainly attempting to wrench his arm from Ichigo's grip. Ichigo held tight, though… and the Hollow gave up, even though he could easily get loose.

Something just wasn't right.

Ichigo found his guts, and wrenched the Shirosaki down to the window/floor, sitting down beside of him before the Hollow could even protest. "Why are you crying? That's what's been bugging you? My emotions?"

No reply. The Hollow refused to even look at him. Heck, he didn't even bother denying the tears.

"…So it is?"

A weak nod.

"…I'm fine. All right? I'm fine." The Hollow glanced at the King, bursting out into laughter. Ichigo rolled his eyes. _Screw crocodile tears. Hollow's are way, way worse. Bipolar little…_

When the Hollow had contained himself, he snickered, pointing an accusing finger at the teen. "Ya ain't fine. I ain't stupid, Kingy. Ya can't hide the rain, King. Lil' Ichi be lyin'."

Now it was Ichigo's turn to scowl. Hichigo continued, "Ya ain't bein' true, King. Even th' old fart Zangetsu can tell. He ain't showed up 'cause ya being a wuss. He knows ya're weak lately. Don't wanna see ya, he said." Hichigo paused, one eye always on Ichigo. The teen shrugged, causing Hichigo to press further.

He wanted something. Ichigo could tell. He kept pushing and pushing… for something... Probably anger, knowing the Hollow… but Ichigo was so mad he refused to do that much for him. The desire burnt strongly. Probably due to the silence treatment the Hollow had been giving him, no doubt.

Ichigo suddenly spoke up. "So you're all right? You aren't hurt or anything?"

The Hollow froze, grin breaking out from ear to ear. "Naw, ain't hurt, King. Ya worried abou' lil' ol' me? I'm touched." The sorrow relinquished Hichigo's dark eyes momentarily, but whatever it was the replaced it was quickly replaced with apathy.

Ichigo stood, pushed to his limit, intending on leaving. Hichigo grabbed his ankle.

This… was a new development. "King, I'm not done talkin'!"

"You won't talk and now you won't shut up? Make up your mind!"

Hichigo paused, staring at Ichigo's back. His line of sight traced Ichigo's shoulders, then ran down his spine. From there, it calmly eyed the hips and on down, but immediately went up to the shoulders, eyes narrowed now. "Ya're tense. Sit down, already."

Ichigo obliged, beyond pissed now.

"…King, one last question."

"…Fine."

"…Why do you WANT me to talk?"

That was random. Ichigo fought for an answer, trying to find one that wouldn't wound his pride, but also would satisfy his Hollow. "…because when you're quiet, something just doesn't feel right."

"…That all?"

Their eyes met, and Ichigo gulped slightly. He didn't like that look Shiro was giving him. Ichigo felt like he was under a microscope, slowly being picked apart by someone who didn't have the right to do so. Agonizingly, each bit torn away to reveal what made him tick… So Ichigo narrowed his eyes, intimidated… and then Shiro let go suddenly. "Tha' ain't all, King. Ya know it."

"…Nngh."

"…Say it."

"…I don't like the silence. Happy now?!"

The Hollow seemed to decipher the information before standing, seemingly back to normal. "Yup, King, feelin' bettah! Thank ya."

Ichigo stood, grumbling to himself, and turned to leave again. Shiro didn't reach out to stop him, but did leave some departing words instead: "What's it feel like to feel? I don't get it, King."

To which his reply was: "Can't explain it. Next time you go into one of your 'thinking' spells, say something before I go bonkers. God."

The Hollow only turned to stare at him before calmly stating, "I'll hold you to that, King…"

Something still didn't feel quite right. Something about the Hollow's eyes were desperate and… dare Ichigo say it… sad.

But he was alive.

Ichigo returned to reality, feeling reassured, but… also like he'd missed something entirely. It was an annoying feeling. Almost like something was frantically trying to be remembered, beating against the side of his head. Ichigo just groaned, gathering his things for school. At least he wouldn't kill anyone from separation issues this time.

He arrived at his usual time. He saw the same people… but the conversations were odd. Repeatedly he was asked how he was feeling. Ichigo had no idea how to respond. How was he supposed to say, 'Oh, yeah, well, I'm not psychopathic now. I just finished a convo with my other personality. Yeah, things are good now,' without weird looks?

So instead, he shrugged, tuning into other conversations to see what he'd missed. This definitely didn't help the suspicions of his friends… Well, for the most part.

"So, Ichigo, are you going to help out with the school fair?" Orihime happily asked, eyes wide and happy as always. She was so grateful he was all right that the details really didn't matter. _Kurosaki-kun just got abducted by aliens. He's fine! I can tell! _This… weird fact relieved her fears instantaneously.

"…Huh?" He'd been tuning her out.

"The school fair. You know, that we've been discussing all week?"

"…Uh…" So THAT'S what was going on… "What's our class doing again?"

"Ooooooooh, we're doing a café, but it'll be Halloween themed, and will have games and prizes, and everyone has to wear costumes and…"

Ichigo wanted to beat his head into the wall. This was NOT his thing.

At least he had Hichigo laughing at him in the background again…

…Not that he missed it, or anything!

What Ichigo didn't know…

…was that he'd fall silent again in only a matter of time.

That, and all wasn't well inside his head.

Hichigo, after a short bit of laughter, allowed said laughter to fade away, happy demeanor disappearing suddenly. "…" The Hollow turned, settling down in the same spot he was where Ichigo had first saw him. Laying down once more, Shiro stared heavenward.

Above him, just meeting his gaze, was a small imperfection in the sky. It was almost like a wrinkle or a tear in the giant upholstery of the sky Hichigo knew.

And with each passing second, Hichigo could swear that it was growing.

He didn't want to admit it at first, when it was just a tiny speck above. He passed it off as a weird scenario. Heck, Ichigo was full of them.

But when it stayed, and started to grow.

Today he'd managed to close it somewhat so that Ichigo could come in, if only for a little bit… but…

The wrinkle, or whatever it was was still there. And the work he'd done on it had been completely undone. If anything, it seemed to be moving faster.

Now he wasn't sure why… but it bothered him. Something about it just didn't sit right with him.

He was sure of one of two things:

One: It was a new emotion or something. And, if so, he intended to find out what said emotion was… and figure out how to make it either go away or stop bugging him. That had originally been his reason for asking his first question. '_Ichigo, what is like to have feelings?' _(Although, somewhere along the line, the others just… came out of nowhere and ate at him.)

Two: Ichigo was damaged somehow. And if Ichigo's world was damaged, he had failed to do his job. If the damage continued, and…

Well, let's just say that he didn't like the thought of the last one. He didn't even dare to think it.

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A/N: Well, that's the end of this chapter. It's not as long as the last... at least, I don't think so. Never bothered counting. But it felt like I should cut it off there. So I did, because I'm that weird. I update about every Friday, so until then...

See ya, and thanks for reading this or something. (I have no idea what to say. XD)


	3. Chapter 3 Where, oh Where, Do you Bleed?

**TIN MAN**

**Author's Note:**

**Dear God, this took forever to publish! So much for the 'I'll publish once a week, I promise!' Ugh. I'm a horrible, horrible person... but... I had finals and crap to do. I still have four of them to go. Stuff came up. Contrary to popular belief, I do have a life. The author actually is a living being! (Who would've guessed?)**

**Anyway, here's Chapter Three. It isn't my favorite of the three, but oh well... I like where it's going. Hope you guys enjoy it.**

**DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT, IN ANY FORM, OWN BLEACH OR ANY OF ITS CHARACTERS. IF I DID, THERE WOULD BE MORE ORIHIME AND ISIDA LOVE, AND BYAKUYA WOULD NOT HAVE A STICK SHOVED UP AS HIS ASS. THANK YOU.**

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**Chapter Three: Where, oh Where, do you Bleed?**

They **had** to be mocking him. There was no fucking way Ichigo was doing this…

Oh, but he was.

Somewhere along the lines of this little plan for celebration, things turned awry. Black lace adorned every possible surface, and cutesy little monsters stared back into his now horrified gaze. There were 'dead' roses in a vase on every table. It was so overblown. The formerly perfectly normal, tolerable bland curtains of the room had been cast aside, and, as a replacement, lace curtains adorned them as well. The whole place was covered in the stuff.

Sure, there was an occasional tacky spiderweb, but the lace was killing him. To the poor disgruntled teen, it appeared as if a silkworm had vomited all over the place. There was no way any man with any ounce of dignity would find their way into this overly-feminized room willingly. Already, he felt like he was slowly turning into a girl just be standing at the entryway.

But it wasn't that that was aggravating him so…

He swore under his breath. Orihime was happily chattering away with Rukia, both of them even more bubbly than normal. Uryu was currently putting the finishing touches on what appeared to be a maid costume for the top-heavy woman, and he groaned. They all looked so happy. The bustling girl was all smiles, chattering on about something she'd cooked, while the quiet Quincy just nodded and replied softly… timidly. The dark haired teen had been reduced from the arrogant snot he usually was around Ichigo to a modest, meek man who could barely force his own voice out without stuttering.

Ichigo wasn't stupid. He knew all too well what the change meant. The Quincy was smitten while Orohime was either totally clueless to the matter… per normal… or was perfectly happy with the way she felt towards the other. He gathered it was the former of the two. Rukia'd not gossiped about it Inoue yet, so that was probably the case… (He couldn't say the same for the Quincy, whose feelings were now very well known… by everyone but Orihime.) Already, his male companion was hopelessly wrapped around her finger.

THAT was what was sickening him. Ichigo had noticed several changes over the course of time. Where he previously would have never noticed anything, he was starting to pick up on things that seemed so obvious to everyone else… It seemed that many of his friends were falling head over head with each other, leaving him to grimace at it. He wasn't jealous. He just felt like vomiting every time he saw his friends trying to suck each other's faces off. After all, these were the people he'd known for a long time, had grown to care about as extended family… and no one wanted to see their family members on the verge of stripping off clothes. At least Uryu wasn't that far gone yet…. He was still a bumbling idiot around her. It'd be a while before she noticed anything.

Ichigo sighed uncomfortably. _God, I want out of here. I wonder if they'd notice if I let Kon take over for the event… Then again, the last thing I need is Kon around maids… Ugh. I just want to go in my world and wait this out…_

That surprised him. Since when had his world become a sanctuary? To the best of his knowledge, it had been unpleasant and frightening… but now, it wasn't. No, it was just the opposite. It was a place for him to get away from the stress, now, even if it used to cause an ungodly amount of anxiety before. When had that happened? He'd never picked up on it…

The Shimigami sighed in dismay, only to receive a dark look from Uryu as Orihime chattered on, not noticing yet.

That look said it all. It was one of those, '_you hurt her feelings and you die'_ sort of glares. Seems he'd been getting a lot of those from the Quincy lately.

So the emo fell in love with the princess. How touching.

Ichigo had no choice in whether he participated or not. This was going to be SO fun…

* * *

Inside Ichigo's head, it wasn't much better. Hichigo was staring up at the gash, eyes cold and hateful. It had yet to grow in that hungry, cancerous way again, but he knew. He knew it would surge forward, claiming all of that formerly perfect sky of his King, ravenous and unforgiving. As his King's 'horse', he refused to let something so seemingly small and stupid get in his way of doing what he did best: annoying Kurosaki mercilessly, but at the same time, doing his job of protecting the same man. It was his job. It was his **only** job, really. Protect and serve the one who owned the world he lived in. Being annoying was part of that job, now that Ichigo had issued such an order.

_'Next time you go into one of your thinking spells, say something before I go bonkers.'_ That was an order if he ever did see one… which he hadn't, but that wasn't going to stop him from performing just that. Hichigo was always thinking, thus, he wasn't supposed to go quiet. It bothered the strawberry when he didn't talk, although, he didn't know why. He didn't need to know why, because Hollow or not, it pleased him to know he was missed… by Ichigo, of all people.

That brought him to where he was now, glaring heavenward as if the hole had greatly wronged him, malicious intent in those inverted eyes of his. Zangetsu was by his side, standing on a pole as he usually did. This continued for quite a while. Shiro glaring… Zangetsu standing there…

It was Zangetsu that shattered the standstill, uttering, "If it bothers you, fix it."

Shiro scowled. "D'ya always hafta talk in flippin' riddles all t'time, ol' man?!"

Zangetsu ignored his comment. "It bothers you. You want it to stop. So stop it."

The Hollow knew the zanpaktou was right… but he wasn't happy about it. He didn't have any idea how to do that. When he didn't know what to do, he always grew grumpy and more agitated than normal. Already, he was in a royally pissed mood. The hole was interrupting what he was supposed to do! Ichigo, the only person he actually didn't want to rip limb from limb, was out there, suffering through god knows what, and he couldn't even see what was going on! With that imperfection overhead, their thoughts weren't connected as they usually were. Yes, he felt the rain beating on him when Ichigo was sad, and he felt the sun when Ichigo was happy still, but the source was completely oblivious to him. Normally, when Ichigo was in danger, or happy, or whatever, he could always see the cause by getting into Ichigo's thoughts and demanding an answer to it. They were from the same mold. They were mirrors of each other, and what went on in the older's head could be accessed by the younger… but not the other way around if their connection was severed. It was a strange thing… Like a phone line, almost, where once the conversation ended, one could either put it on hold, to be picked up later without reconnecting… or hang up, shutting the conversation off until further notice. Ichigo didn't know how to contact the hollow in such a fashion, so the link was always there… so Hichigo was always there. It was just the way things worked… but with this growing imperfection, that was getting difficult. There were lapses where Hichigo could not, under any circumstance, talk to his King.

He had to keep talking. It was his job. But that stupid tear in the pale sky overhead was getting in his damn way!

"T'second Kingy gets his ass in 'ere, I'm gonna rip 'im a new one for makin' th' stupid hole!"

Zangetsu shook his head. "Ichigo isn't aware it's there, Hichigo." The albino froze, staring at him. "So how is he to make it go away if he doesn't know what it is??"

The hollow fell silent again before muttering, "Help me fix this. I need to see him."

* * *

Meanwhile, outside of the sideways realm, Ichigo was purely dismayed. His costume was something that he vowed never to wear. He was home now, and said costume was thrown aside into the depths of his closet, not to be looked at again until the day of the event. He was currently struggling through his homework. The days where he had been so agitated had left him incredibly behind on his classes, which was an odd feeling he was not used to. He'd always been one of the best in his class, just so the teachers would give him a break for breaking their rules. Now, he didn't have that cover, and if he didn't do something fast, they'd make him dye his hair or go to detention for picking fights… again.

It was the last thing he wanted to do. His mother would turn in her grave to see her little boy become a detention patron. Thus, he slaved away, grumbling to himself. Why did all algebra problems have to resemble Rukia's crappy drawings? Numbers danced before his eyes, blending and merging into one large garbled mess. He was swearing to himself as he tried to straighten it out, completely oblivious to the familiar presence that was slowly forming… right behind him.

Needless to say, the vibrant haired boy nearly jumped out of his skin when a pale hand reached out and clenched his hair, jerking it backwards. With a yelp of pain, Ichigo found himself staring into the strange eyes of Shirosaki, who looked like he'd seen better days. Shiro's clothes were disheveled and torn, his eyes tired and… dare he say it… worried? The hollow's pale lips were pressed in a thin line, eyes boring into the darker ones below.

Ichigo scowled, glaring up at the other. "What're you trying to do, scare the shit out of me?! Let go, dammit!"

Only when his hair was released did he calm down, watching his other half with pure interest. This was odd. Sure, the Horse did like to randomly show up and antoganize them when they were alone, but this was entirely new. Not once had he shown up this way, staring him down like something was horrifically wrong. Ichigo felt his heart sink. What had happened?

Shiro sat on the other's desk, nonchalantly going on. "King, I have 'nother question fer ya."

This came as a surprise. It seemed Ichigo was getting a lot of those lately…

"Ya said I could say somethin' if I got t'thinkin', righ'?" He didn't wait for a nod. Words came ceaselessly from that mouth of his, obviously chosen with great care. "Well, I got t'thinkin'… an'… Ya feelin' okay?"

Ichigo gawked at him. "Am… I… feeling okay…?" A nod was made in reply, those inverted eyes never leaving Ichigo's face. "Uh… Yeah…"

"Ya sure…? Ya ain't hurtin'?"

Ichigo could only dumbly shake his head. Since when did Shiro care whether he hurt or not? It… felt strange, to hear this from him…

"Funneh, ya don't look al'righ'." Shiro gave him a dark look, but it didn't have as much venom as normal. It was watered down greatly by concern. Slowly, the gaze travelled downward to the papers on the desk, and with one swift movement, Shiro had them in his hand, staring at them in bewilderment.

Shiro knew why he'd came, even if Ichigo didn't. He always came to see Ichigo for a reason, be it just to see him or something with a more grave purpose. In this case, it was the latter of the two. Zangetsu, always short and to the point, had given him advice, and for once, he took it.

He had been told to look for anything that could cause a difference in the sky. So look he did. Although, he had no idea what it was he was looking for, but he could take a couple of stabs. "Ya look flustered an' angry. Ya mad about these scribbles?" He received no reply. So it wasn't those. With a childish huff, the pale man tossed them carelessly, leaving Ichigo to struggle to catch them before they ended up meeting an untimely demise. Those eyes flickered over the rest of the room, and finding nothing that could possibly be of danger to the strawberry, the frown grew.

Ichigo was swearing at him in the background, but went ignored. Shiro carried on with his questions, turning on his heal to stare Ichigo down again. "So it ain't that…" It hadn't rained in a while, so it wasn't him mourning over a loved one… so he wasn't in any physical danger, so perhaps it was stress? That was ruled out quickly. Ichigo looked stressed now, and the gaping gash in the sky hadn't grown today… Each place he looked made him even more confused. He saw photos that he'd never noticed before of some woman and an orange haired boy, and he saw old drawings with lines of thick and clumsy crayons taped over Ichigo's bed. One of the 'midgets', as he called them, must have drawn them for Ichigo years ago, he mused, but as to why Ichigo kept the ugly things, he didn't understand. How was he supposed to look for things that could invoke an emotional change in Ichigo when he didn't understand emotion at all?!

Shiro grew more and more frantic in his searching, leaving Ichigo to finally snap, getting his attention. Dark eyes looked up at Shiro, the owner of said eyes angrily asking, "What the hell is with you today? I'm fine! Even if I wasn't, it's none of your damn business how I'm feeling!"

'_Ichigo, what is it like to have feelings?' _Shiro scoffed, shaking his head. He'd asked that question before, and couldn't be answered. Now, when he needed the answer more than anything, it suddenly didn't concern him? Obviously Ichigo was off his rocker. "Pfft. Stupid Kingy. Matters all the world t'me." Ichigo gaped again as Shiro's face contorted in a bitter grin, white lips pulling tight over those perfect teeth.

Ichigo felt a soft twinge of guilt. He was careless, spewing out words like that. "Um… sorry…" Shiro nodded at this before looking up at his King one last time.

He'd gotten off target again, but somehow, he didn't think there was anything to be found here. He'd have to look elsewhere.

Slowly, Ichigo shuffled over there to him, lightly punching his arm. "You really are a moron, Shiro. Seriously… If my feelings got hurt or something, I'd tough it out… I mean, you might get rained on, but…"

Shiro froze, staring at him. "Hurt? Ya feelin's can hurt?"

"Y-Yeah… They… can hurt…"

This caught Shiro's attention. This was a foreign thing to the Hollow, that was for sure. Hollows didn't have feelings. They weren't supposed to, it made things very complicated. How was one supposed to devour a screaming soul when they were too torn up with hearing it cry? Feelings bogged them down, so they weren't needed… but here stood the perfect reflection of his own image, that felt and obviously prospered. Why was that? "Where d'they hurt?"

"…Your heart, I guess…"

"Ya heart?"

"Yes, your heart… It feels… like someone squeezing it… or tearing it… or something." Ichigo didn't know how to explain it. It was like explaining colors to the blind… but it was enough for Shiro, who was in a much better mood when he left back to where he came.

Ichigo, however, was left bewildered.

Yes, over time, he had grown to notice things easier.

People's faces stuck easier, names stuck easier, but more than anything, changes were picked up easier.

Ichigo could see it so clearly. Something, although he wasn't sure what, was going on, and somehow, he was in the middle of it. Shirosaki was acting stranger than ever, coming and going with little to no explanation again and again…

…but he could still tell that something, somewhere, was subtly shifting and changing.

Shirosaki knew something was going on in Ichigo's head, but Ichigo wasn't aware of that. No, he was aware that the way the pair interacted had changed…

No, that it _was_ changing.

He wasn't so sure that he liked the weird feeling left in Shirosaki's wake.

"_Stupid Kingy. Matters all the world t'me."_ Over and over, like a broken record, in his head…

Yes, things were changing… and Ichigo was out of his element, just as Shirosaki was fighting the ever-growing wrinkle in that giant upholstery in Ichigo's sky…

Hollows were meant to kill, not to save. They were meant to hate, not to care…

Soul Reapers were made to protect, not to hide away, as Ichigo did from his sky… and Soul Reapers certainly weren't supposed to get all warm and fuzzy due to a Hollow, as Ichigo did now.

Yet, as Ichigo nodded off, it wasn't realization of how warped his situation was… It was a simple wish.

_Shiro… I don't know what's going on. Whatever you do… Please be okay._

The Hollow laughed as Ichigo slipped into unconsciousness, unaware that the sky was not well…

…and had grown while Shiro had not been there to fight it off.

Oh yes, things were changing… for better… or for worse.

* * *

**AUTHOR'S NOTE: Well, that was probably my least favorite chapter, but I like it all the same. I want to thank everyone for all of the reviews, as they really make my day. (Wow, aren't I corny?) Wonder what that costume is? XD (I already know, duh, but do you?) The title will start to begin to make sense soon... I'd say in a chapter or two, depending on how I decide to write the rest of this. Who knows how long this will end up being? ANYWAY... Happy belated holidays.**


	4. Chapter 4: Are you Happy Now?

**TIN MAN**

AN: Hey guys. I updated. It didn't take as long as last time, thankfully. Seems like I'm incapable of updating weekly. I'm too much of a perfectionist for that... Heh, sorry. Anyway, I want to thank you guys for all of the wonderful reviews. If I haven't replied to you, I'm terribly sorry... The stupid author just figured out how to do that... I'm still learning about the format and what not...

Seems this story's become pretty popular. I never imagined it would be quite so well received... I just wrote it because I got a random idea for a story... I do that all the time... I'm thrilled, though! You guys have made this sixteen-year-old girl very happy.

As for the layout, I know one of you guys asked for me to put more paragraph breaks in so it might be easier to read... but it made the story look choppy and the page go on forever... Sorry! I still am not a fan of fanfiction's layout system... I still prefer how this story looks in word. Much more readable... (I'm going to stop before I rant.) In any event, please enjoy the newest installation of Tin Man!

DISCLAIMER: I do not, in any way, own Bleach or any of its characters. If I did, there would be a lot of boy on boy action, more Ishihime love, and Byakuya wouldn't have a stick shoved up his ass. (Okay, make that several sticks.)

* * *

**Chapter Four: Are you Happy Now?**

All was peaceful in Ichigo's mind overnight and well into the morning, but it wasn't to say that things hadn't been hectic for a certain Hollow, who, truth be told, had his work cut out for him, that much was now certain. As Ichigo slumbered, blind to the perils within his own mind, his mirror image had fought frantically to maintain the stability that he held so dear, hour after hour. While this went on, Zangetsu, for whatever the reason, stood by and played the role of an apathetic bystander looking on at the turn of events. That apathetic eye could clearly see that the rift had grown. He could clearly see how the Hollow had paled (which he had formerly viewed as an impossible task), and then how the Hollow had quickly assessed the damage and came up with a crude but effective system of combating the cancerous wound above.

Shiro would start at the base of one of the sideways skyscrapers nearest to the imperfection, eyeing it darkly before inhaling and exhaling deeply, inverted irises narrowing ever so slightly before he would take off as fast as his legs could take him, much as a bird would take off in flight. Eye the goal… ready yourself… and go. Each bound grew in power and length… and at the end of the building, he would leap as far as he could, allowing his reitsu to flow freely as he neared it, clawed hands pulling the upholstery together as much as possible before he would plummet, landing in an undignified heap… and then it would start again.

Glare… Sprint… Jump… Pull… Crash… Repeat. Over and over, hour after hour, even after the sweat had nearly soaked him through. Yet, the dark garbed man made no motion to aid him, instead choosing to be a silent spectator, viewing it all in mild disdain.

Shiro couldn't see it, evidentially, but Zangetsu saw it perfectly clearly. With every attempt, the hollow would plummet and grunt only to stagger to his feet, returning from whence he came to try again… and for a couple of times, this seemed effective. Around the fifth or sixth time this was repeated, however, the seemingly endless sky just seemed to groan quietly, as if in protest of the administrations. The zanpakuto's eyes narrowed, not liking this new turn of events.

Yes, the man garbed in black had asked Shiro to fix the matter. Yes, he knew that the Horse was doing all he could for his King… and yet…

With a curse, Shiro landed again, pausing to look upwards at the imperfection, breathless. Mentally, he attempted to recall how long he had been doing this… but seeing as how time moved in odd, foreign ways within Ichigo's mind, there was no telling. There was no sun, nor a moon, to mark the days. The clouds passed overhead, but they were meaningless, as they were nothing more than a display of Ichigo's emotions. Nothing changed much within this world, other than emotions… and with Ichigo, that was frequent, but that didn't help Shirosaki in the least. After all, Ichigo went from happy to angry to depressed within the time span of a few minutes. Happy because things in his life were going well. Rukia and company would be safe, he'd be passing his classes, coping with the weird duties of a Soul Reaper. Next, was anger when something or someone came along to challenge that happy state, and ultimately, depressed when things didn't go well, an injury or death of someone to accompany that depression, deepening it until the sky sent rain tumbling down in sheets. Shiro liked his King's happiness, so long as it didn't go on so long as to render him forgotten. Anger, he loved. He could relate to anger. He couldn't feel it, but he understood the desire to harm others. Anger also kept Ichigo alive… It was the rain that bothered him. It drenched him, chilling him to the bone…

…and nothing he could do could stop that depression, usually. Ichigo wouldn't show up during that time frame. Hollow or not, Shiro wasn't capable of dragging his King into this realm to console him to stop the rain. During those times, he was forgotten, left to soak. Shirosaki refused to be forgotten.

So, he mended the sky. Ichigo would be upset to learn that the sky was messed up, right? That meant rain… Rain meant that Ichigo would mope. That meant he would be forgotten. Being remembered was all he had, really. If Ichigo failed to remember him, what was the point in living? He couldn't find someone else for company… and contrary to what he may or may not say, the Hollow needed to have a companion that wasn't Zangetsu. He couldn't antagonize the dark garbed man. Ichigo not only brought that entertainment, but… something else to the table. Something that Shiro needed… If Ichigo died, what would he do? Rot?

With that in mind, he kept working at the rift, leap after leap, thinking it through.

The sky was in trouble. He had to do something… but what? This was all he could think of. It seemed to help… but Zangetsu wasn't so sure.

Shiro didn't know that the sky groaned as the ministrations continued. Zangetsu could hear the soft rumble of the heavens, and he was positive it wasn't thunder. It sounded alien. What a foreign sound it was! It was a low rumble that sent reverberations down his spine, and through him, into the buildings below his feet. Thunder… wasn't this frightening. Thunder was Ichigo's anger, which saved the King every now and again. This… was a bad noise. It wasn't good. He knew it was so. Shiro didn't notice the noise at all, leaving Zangetsu to be very confused. It was… so obvious that something was wrong. Yet, the Hollow seemed deaf to it.

Why?

All Hichigo knew was that his entire body seemed to be screaming in defiance, each muscle wound tightly and screaming in agony. As he gazed heavenwards, he could only groan to himself as the sky seemed to twist and contort. What was once nothing more than a wrinkle had now formed into a longer, thicker tear, and as Shiro stared, the temporary fix seemed to be torn apart by some damned force, leaving him to swear profusely.

Nothing was working. No amount of force could hold that damned blasphemy together… and Ichigo would get upset. Damn.

Zangetsu watched on, exasperated, before eyeing his unorthodox companion, stating, "It isn't working."

Shiro gave him the darkest look he could muster, murmuring, "I know," before trying for the umpteenth time to fix this… leaving Zangetsu to watch on, weary but amused. The hollow was too tired to swear profusely at him. That was saying something.

It seemed that even as Ichigo's polar opposite, the pair did have something in common. They weren't ones for giving up, that was for sure…

* * *

Ichigo woke with a splitting headache, leaving him to groan in dismay. It literally felt like his head was being torn in half! (If he only knew.) Glaring at the open blinds of his window, the teen rolled over, swearing to himself as he burrowed his head under the pillows. This was so not fair. Not only had Shiro left him bewildered and confused last night, the Hollow was probably off destroying things in that cheerful way of his within Ichigo's realm, perfectly content and happy while Ichigo lay here, cursing and clinging to his aching head.

Vaguely, he tried to recall what it was he was supposed to do today. During the time where he was still adjusting to balancing life as a teenager in high school and a Soul Reaper, it had formed into a habit... and it was one of the only things that kept him from falling to the pressure. After all… his life was stressful. He was always in and out of class so much that he would miss assignments, miss due dates, miss events… especially the important ones like meeting his friends somewhere to do something trivial just because they wanted to be together. Those times were more important than any other, as they were numbered. There was no way to tell when a face would permanently leave their entourage, be it by death or distance. As much as he wanted to, he couldn't protect everyone. He would never always be there for them. Ichigo didn't know when he'd have to go slay a rampaging Hollow or… as much as he hated to admit it… when he would die. Ichigo could easily be killed at any time… by enemies…

…or his own reflection.

Ichigo had a hunch that he would die first. The odds were against him…

For one, his head wasn't exactly stable. He had an insane albino running through his mind breaking stuff for the fun of it. Hichigo had frequent, violent, mood-swings… and due to the fact that Ichigo was one of Hichigo's only companions, he was on the receiving end of the violent tendencies. They were less frequent now, for whatever the reason, but Ichigo knew he should still be wary. If that didn't do him in… He had to fight monsters that literally could bite his head off… He wouldn't live to old age. The Strawberry would have a heart attack before then due to all the stress. Ichigo was always stressed, always sticking his neck out for those who he had no business in saving… and he had to try to live like a normal teen too, which included homework, dating, taking care of his chores, making sure his sisters didn't get eaten, etcetera… (Okay, so the last one wasn't that normal, but hell, it mattered to him!)

Remembering things was important. He would kick the bucket sooner or later…

…and he didn't want to miss out on the time he had.

So, with a groan, Ichigo started to tally off the list of things that were supposed to be done, pausing as he couldn't think of any more. He knew he was forgetting something. He was supposed to do the dishes, do that essay due next week for English… but then what? It was important. He remembered that much.

Yet, it wouldn't come. Usually he had no problems with this task. It was something he **depended** on. It was like breathing to Ichigo… He could list everything, with no effort… but now he couldn't even do that. His head hurt far too much. All of his thoughts kept going back to it, then to Hichigo.

_Damn Hollow. I bet he's having a field day in there. Breaking crap… Damn… I bet he broke something important this time… Ugh._

With a sigh, he slowly ventured from the safety of his bed, grimacing as he did so. Blood rushed to his head in an agonizing throb, pain radiating down his spine to his arms and legs. Vainly, he struggled to ignore the dull throbbing sensation. It shouldn't bother him. He'd had swords pierce him all the way through, jotting out from his shoulders, his chest… and yet…

…this was a whole different kind of pain. Faintly, he heard Yuzu yell for him. Probably to get to class… but her usually chipper voice sounded underwater, distant…

…broken.

Ichigo stumbled towards the door, tanned hands reaching out for anything to stabilize his shaking form. Somewhere, he could hear the distinct voice of Kon smarting off, only to quickly become concerned. Words slurred together. Nothing made sense now.

Yuzu's voice grew more frantic…

He was at the stairs… and was still standing. Inch by inch, he made his way down them… stopping about halfway down when a spell of dizziness took over, forcing him to pause and rest against the cool wall, silently marveling at how good it felt against his feverish skin.

Everything ached. Every single noise was akin to having his head beaten in with a blade, relentlessly cutting away at him, aftershocks travelling elsewhere. Any battle he'd ever faced was better than this. Anything was better than this.

_Make it stop. No more. Just stop… Too much pain. Can't take this…_

Inside Ichigo's mind, Shirosaki froze, pale face contorting as Ichigo's words spread through the world like fire. Effortlessly, those words ate him up. Burnt him, scalded him, pained him… and he wanted them to stop. Already, he could feel the buildings start to quake with fear, windowpanes shattering violently in response to Ichigo's pain. Glass shards threatened to assail him, but Hichigo did not move, swaying slightly to accommodate for the rocking of his world. Dark eyes glanced up at the rift, then around him, torn. He had to fix the problem…

…but…

…Ichigo was hurting. No, it was beyond hurting…

His King was being eaten away with excruciating pain… and Shirosaki, for the first time he could remember, had no way of combating it.

Physical pain caused by an assailant was easy to stop. Just a flick of the arm, and the opponent's head went rolling… and the pain would stop, slowly fading away. Emotional pain was trickier, as he didn't understand emotions very well. He tried to stop the rain… and usually succeeded somehow or another…

But this? This was neither here nor there.

For the first time in his existence, Hichigo was absolutely clueless as to make the hurt stop. He caused hurt all the time…

…but nothing like this.

The wound in Ichigo's head would have to wait. This was far, far worse.

Hichigo reached out towards the other, their minds linking. Ichigo's words were louder now, the syllables seeming to lick up his legs, burning. "_…Hurts…"_

The Hollow paused, thinking, before slowly replying. "_Ya ain't bleedin'. And it ain't rainin'… but ya hurtin'? I don't understand."_ A soft noise of pain confirmed this, and, with a sigh the Hollow went on, "What d'ya want me t'do t'help?"

He received nothing but a strangled moan, another wave of pain taking over the horse's master. Speaking had become a chore for the orange-haired teen, leaving the reflection to grit his teeth. His King was deteriorating…

Shirosaki strengthened the link the best he could. It was something he had never done, and something he thought would never be necessary. After all, his King was strong, and capable of taking a beating, at least… he had been. Now, Shirosaki wasn't so sure. Due to this action, the link was stronger than it had ever been… and in strengthening the link… half of the pain Ichigo felt became Shirosaki's pain… and it burnt. Shirosaki winced slightly, only to shake his head, coping. This was Ichigo's burden. As his Horse, it was also his own. He couldn't have Ichigo dying yet. No. Ichigo was needed, although, Shirosaki was not quite sure exactly what it was he was needed for. Keeping him alive was a priority, and even if he didn't know the reasons behind this need for the other to live… He could act accordingly.

That meant getting Ichigo to rest while he tried to figure this out. _"Kingy… get ya ass in bed. Ya family'll see ya if ya stand 'ere. Betcha don't want 'em askin' 'bout this…_

Ichigo silently thanked him before turning to retreat back to his bed, able to move a little better now. His mind was still too hazy for him to understand what Shiro had done… or that the action had ever occurred. All that Ichigo could comprehend right now was that the pain had lessened.

The vibrantly haired teen was out like a light almost immediately upon coming into contact with his mattress, not bothering to crawl under the covers or to turn out the lights. He was worn out, completely dead to the world.

So he couldn't complain if he materialized again and watch over him, now, could he? The pale man sat at first on the edge of the bed, eyeing Ichigo warily for a few minutes, just to make sure he would stay out for the count for a while. The last thing he needed was a potentially ill fuming Ichigo getting on his case when he was actually trying to help for once. The sleeping teen didn't stir, leaving Shirosaki to sigh, his face now in his hands.

Shirosaki had failed. His King was hurt…

…and he had the creeping suspicion that he was to blame.

Inverted eyes opened, embittered, before they caught sight of the tell-tale stuffed animal in the corner, playing dead. At first, Shiro was amused by this, only to blink, perking up.

When he came in here for answers, he hadn't been able to get any from Kurosaki…

…but that wasn't to stop him from beating them out of Kon, who was with Ichigo more often than not, and who also was privy to the expressions and rants that were shared only on Ichigo's outside, right?

But as Shirosaki stood, about to grab the sorry piece of cloth, it stood, dashing into the closet, much to his annoyance…

Kon made his disapproval for the Hollow's antics known, swearing at him profusely from the closet. When that didn't faze him, clothes and other objects were thrown instead… and when a certain object that Ichigo had tossed aside yesterday nearly hit the Hollow, he snarled…

…only to blink, turning to face this strange item.

Ichigo had neglected to tuck the costume far enough out of sight… and now Shirosaki was kneeling before it, blinking in bewilderment. Lifting it carefully, the albino looked it over, purely bewildered. He had yet to notice Ichigo wearing this… thing. Surely he'd remember something that looked so weird, right? (Then again, by the Hollow's standards, everything Ichigo wore was off, but this was off by a whole new level.)

After a moment, Kon ventured from his hiding place, standing a safe distance away. "Huh? What the heck is that thing?"

"…I dunno…"

Seeing as how most, if not all, violent notions were gone, Kon ventured a little closer, voice raising slightly in realization. "I think… it's a scarecrow costume? Why does he have it? Ichigo's way too old to go trick-or-treating... Oh! Maybe he's a pedophile...?"

An awkward pause… before Shirosaki 'conveniently' chose to grab Kon with one hand, discarding the costume carelessly to the floor, much to Kon's horror. Shirosaki grinned to himself, chirping, "Ya wanna talk?"

Needless to say, that wasn't a very fruitful attempt either, seeing as how Kon was screaming bloody murder…

…but Ichigo slumbered on, despite the noise, his face contorting as he drifted into another dream.

In this dream, Ichigo was once again in Shirosaki's body, lying on the ground, staring onward… but all was dark. All source of light was gone, and the more Ichigo willed the body he was in to squint to see some form of light, the darker it became.

It was only then that he felt the warmth all around him, and as before, his lips moved on their own accord. "…happeh, now?" A bitter laugh shook him, sending pain radiating through his chest. "…Are ya happeh now? Did I do… alrigh'…?" The voice was too weak for his liking. It wavered too much… and it sounded garbled, as if something were stuck in the Hollow's throat, muffling the sound.

It was when his frame slowly moved that Ichigo realized that his voice wasn't the only weak thing. Moving was an effort… but somehow, one of his pale, shaking hands lifted into his line of sight, and immediately, Ichigo felt like vomiting.

Shirosaki's hands were stained with blood. Fresh blood, warm, warm blood… the same blood that Shirosaki was lying in… and the same blood blocking the Hollow's throat.

Inverted eyes strayed from it to the darkness, the Hollow fighting to make out something from the darkness. Seemingly getting an answer, the Hollow laughed, voice hoarse…

"Good…"

Ichigo watched in horror as that hand slowly fell…

…and hit the ground, dead.

Ichigo didn't wake. He was stuck in Shiro's corpse, feeling horrified and greatly saddened.

He would remain that way until he would wake hours later, dazed, scared, and confused, with nothing but a dull throbbing in his chest and a headache to assure him that he was alive…

…but it was Shirosaki he was worried about…

…and it would not be for several hours that he would wake, begging for answers.

And this time, neither one of them would settle down until they got the answers they were looking for.

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A/N: There. Another chapter completed... I'll get to work on the next one soon, I swear. (It'll just take me forever to type it and get it to where I want it...) I wonder how many of you guys will pick up as to why the title is Tin Man? It won't follow the same plot... the title came after the story was started. It just seemed to fit. Anyway...

See you next chapter!


	5. Chapter 5: You Aren't Broken, Right?

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TIN MAN

**A/N: Holy crap, this has taken me forever to get out, huh...? Life likes to try to eat my face, sorry... which is one of the reason I appreciate your guys' reviews and feedback. I've saved every single email that has a review/favorite author/story alert/favorite story alert in them so I can look back and grin to myself before writing again. So far, I've got about three pages worth in my email, so... I'm thrilled.**

**On another note... I got my first threat a while back... Someone threatened that if I didn't update, Hichigo would chase me down... So now that I've been threatened for the first time, I am now an official fanfiction author. Heh.**

**One of these days I'll get the formatting of the stories looking somewhat alike... because if I don't, it'll bug me...**

**Ah, one more warning, and I'll leave you guys to read on... To me, this chapter seems like one big fluffy filler. Sorry. It just turned out that way... but fillers lead to good stuff... You know, providing that there's not nine trillion of them... which there won't be. (Like Naruto... which... is ran by filler...) In any event, I hope you enjoy the latest installment of Tin Man!**

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DISCLAIMER: I do not, in any way, own Bleach or any of its characters. If I did, there would be a lot of boy on boy action, more Ishihime love, and Byakuya wouldn't have a stick shoved up his ass. (Okay, make that several sticks.)

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**Chapter Five: You Aren't Broken, Right...?**

It was Shirosaki who had stayed at Ichigo's side while he rested, ensuring that none of his family members could disturb him. They were gone anyway. Apparently the yelling Ichigo had 'heard' yesterday was just a figment of Ichigo's imagination… which left Shirosaki to feel like a failure again. His King was now hearing voices… like that of his sister, concerned for his well-being, and of Kon… who was probably just as concerned, although the Hollow couldn't see why. After all, the rag was calling Ichigo all kinds of profanities as Shirosaki beat the stuffing out of it for answers a while back… So if Ichigo was hearing those sorts of things, then what else was going on in Ichigo's imagination? That rift had to be screwing with his King's head…

…and Shirosaki was not fond of the competition… That was his job, to mess with Ichigo and… Ah, he was getting off topic again.

Anyway, Shiro had noted that the whole family had gone out to go see Ichigo's dead mummy or something, leaving Ichigo to sleep seeing as how sick he looked. (It had been what Ichigo had forgotten when he was tallying off his things to do for the today before he had passed out… which was unfathomable. Ichigo was supposed to be in a deep despair about this day… but he had forgotten something entirely. Something he had never done before. How odd.) Seeing as how everyone but himself and Kon were absent, it was Kon who had first tried to help Ichigo, leaving Shiro to blink in bewilderment. So the stuffed thing was worried after all… Kon may be an ass at times, but he still cared for the teen…

…but not enough to fight a snarling Hollow to the task. Hichigo didn't want Kon touching Ichigo. Ichigo was battered all ready. IF the paws of that mangy rag touched him, who knew what germs they could contain? (He thought that was what they were called… Hollows didn't fall ill.)

Now, if Ichigo got germs, he could get a cold or something, making him even weaker. That wouldn't do… so Kon was promptly locked in the closet, screaming for the Strawberry to save him. The Hollow was the Horse to the King, not the perverted bag of stuffing. Kon was below Shirosaki on this social ladder, and god damn it, he was not giving up his rung to that punk. He'd worked hard (sort of) to get any attention from Ichigo at all, and only recently had that attention been positive. Used to, Ichigo would be frustrated that he had to have anything to do with the Hollow. Nowadays… It was almost as if Ichigo was kinder. Like… Like he actually respected Shirosaki, and while the albino had no idea as to why that was, he sure as heck was not going to let the filthy lion get in the way…

So he had set about to doing what he thought was appropriate to tend to those who were sick, trying to retrieve memories of loved ones taking care of Ichigo from their head to give him something to work with. He found a few, but… Well, his options were limited. Soup? He couldn't fix soup without leaving something out of place (raising suspicion from the rest of Ichigo's family), and he couldn't cook anyway, so Ichigo had to starve… However, he could press those cold hands of his against Ichigo's feverish head, just as Karin or Yuzu would if their sibling looked feverish to check the temperature… but they would get something cold to put there. He only had his cold hands, so they remained at Ichigo's head, neck, and arms. Medicine…? Well, he had no idea what the difference between one and another was, so he had a hunch that **might** not be good for the already sick Strawberry… and… Shirosaki knew there was something else, but at the moment, couldn't recall what it was. It involved one of the short people Ichigo called his siblings… but beyond that, nothing more came to mind…

Yet, he refused to let the thought go. Shirosaki was not the best nurse, but he certainly was trying. He sat at Ichigo's side, pressing those cool hands to him again and again, deep in thought.

What the heck was that other thing…? Ah, it was killing him. For all he knew, it could be the thing to make his King better…

…so he sat there, thinking and nursing, wary inverted eyes watching that tan face for any sign of life. Slowly, it grew less pale and less hot to the touch and more… well, normal...

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No words could express how relieved Sjhiro was when he saw the first twitch of an eyelid… and then Ichigo's eyes fluttered open, a soft groan escaping his throat. His head hurt so badly still… but it was nothing but a dull reminder of the last wave of pain. It took him only a second to realize he was awake, and almost instantly, the teen shot straight up into a sitting position, desperately grasping at his chest, panic-stricken… which effectively stopping the attempted 'nursing', Shirosaki's hand quickly withdrawing, wary of being caught.

Frantically, one sun-kissed hand felt around Ichigo's chest, leaving Shirosaki watching on in bewilderment as to what was going on. Ichigo could tell that his chest wasn't bleeding, but that only surprised him… The dream… It felt so real, he could have sworn that he'd been stabbed overnight…

This puzzled him. That pain was ungodly… but it never happened? Impossible… but… there was no wound. So what could it be…? Something was up… His thoughts at first went to Aizen, but there was no earthly way that could of happened. If one of Aizen's men had been here and he hadn't woken up, he'd be dead or maimed or something rather than confused and unharmed… so his thoughts went to numerous others, but one after another, all leads led to a dead end… Maybe Shirosaki had done something…?

His musing was cut short, however, as Shirosaki's face instantly came back into view, those pale features only an inch from his own, leaving Ichigo to pause, thinking, _Wait… What in the…? What the hell is Shiro doing here? And… why was he at my side? Freaking weirdo... Wait… wasn't he hovering a little closer than this before…?_

That was unexpected, and Ichigo froze, still clinging to his heart. Shirosaki was closer than Ichigo was comfortable with, the albino watching every single flicker of emotion that dared possess his King's face before grinning sadistically, chirping, "Awwwwwww, Kingy's awake! I thought ya were brok'n fer a bit, there…" There was a short pause before the albino blinked, instantly grabbing Ichigo's shoulders and looking him over. "…Ya ain't brok'n, righ'?"

Ichigo could only gape as his reflection tenderly poked and prodded here and there before the King smacked his hand away, snapping, "Hell no! I'm fine… Just stop poking me!"

Shiro snickered at this before leaning closer, leaving Ichigo to back up to the point where his back was pressed squarely against the headboard. Shiro meant well… for once. He'd listen… but he wanted answers from Ichigo. Asking normally would just get a defensive response from the Soul Reaper, so he'd have to go about it a bit differently. "If ya say so, Kingy… Oooh, hey, Kingy! Wanna play a game? I got real bor'd, waitin' fer ya to wake up… so let's play a game. Ya ask me a question… an' I'll tell ya anythin'… but I get t'ask ya somethin'… and ya gotta ans'er me."

It sounded harmless… and it was better than Hichigo deciding to destroy something in his room to alleviate some of that boredom, so Ichigo agreed. "Fine…"

Delighted, Shiro instantly chirped, "Ya start."

In an attempt to humor the teen, Ichigo thought before pausing. The dream… Of course. If Shiro did something, he'd either get angry or proudly admit it, so… It was a good place to start. "…Hollow?" From here on out, things got dangerous, so the teen carefully carried on. "…Have you ever had a dream where you feel like you're dying…?"

"…Dream?" Ichigo sighed. It must have been a bad question, and Shiro did nothing, apparently… because Shiro looked absolutely clueless. The thing probably didn't have dreams of any form… knowing him. "Naw, I never had a dream, b'fore, so... Wait, ya were dyin'?!" Shiro tensed, leaving Ichigo to frantically try to defend himself before the Hollow snapped.

"N-No! You were! I mean, I was you, but I was dying…!" Seeing as how the pale man was staring at Ichigo like the teen was mental now (a slight improvement rather than the 'kill everything that moves' expression), Ichigo sighed, elaborating. "I dreamt, and I was in your body… and you were babbling damn nonsense like you usually do and kicking the bucket. I was stuck in your fucking dead body for hours. Dying… I mean, you dying hurt more than anything I've ever been through, and I was…" Worried? No, that'd make the Hollow laugh… and he didn't need to be ridiculed today, seeing as how he still felt like shit and had no idea when the feeling would subside… "…freaked out by it. I woke up and my chest hurt… You… are you all right?"

Hichigo leaned back, eyeing him cautiously before blurting out, "Course I'm all righ'! Do I look like I'm a'dyin'? Why t'hell did I die in th' first place, huh? I ain't dyin' any time soon, King. Ya think I'm tha' weak? I'm hurt, King…" As pale features contorted into staged pain, it took all Kurosaki had not to punch those lights out. Oh, he'd regret it later… but he was being serious right now, and it kinda sucked to have to deal with this crap so soon after waking up…

"Ugh, I don't know why I even bother talking to you. I wouldn't worry over this if it wasn't so damn weird. What kind of a moron dies smiling like that? I was just worried… asshole."

Shirosaki sighed, watching the ruler of his world scowl angrily, his entire frame stiffening in anger. He certainly wasn't going to get an answer he wanted out of his King if Ichigo was upset with him… so Shirosaki promptly made amends. It wasn't his fault Ichigo was so easily angered… "Sorry, King. Naw, I'm all righ'… Ain't got any rest lately. Been busy in ya head… Norm'ly, there ain't much t'do, but lately, ya've been workin' me t' the bone."

Ichigo froze, staring at him. He hadn't asked Shirosaki to do anything lately… Things had been peaceful as of late (probably a break in Aizen's attack plan, knowing the bastard…), and every single fight he had been in had ended quickly without any exertion on Ichigo's behalf. Sure, he knew he was getting stronger, but the opposition was weak, and the fights ended as soon as they had begun… and the only time he'd ever talked to Shirosaki was when Ichigo was alone. Even then, no demands had been made.

After all, it was an unspoken understanding that Shirosaki would go about his business, and, in doing so, would make Ichigo's head less frightening. Well… Hichigo knew nothing of it. The Soul Reaper did, however. The more the Hollow was at 'work', the less time he spent inside their world, breaking things to make the place less threatening. If Shiro was bored, he'd do that to entertain himself, but if he was tired and happy from battle, he'd lie about and do nothing until he grew restless again. The solution? Ichigo would just not call on Shirosaki, and then he could rely on him to help. Of course, Ichigo would call on him when the pale man demanded it, like in battles were he needed backup and had none… The last thing he needed was for the Hollow to go on strike…

Anyway, he didn't call on him for fights unless Ichigo couldn't possibly handle it.

Yet, here the Horse was, saying how worn out he was from working. The only work that albino did was breaking stuff and killing things… and perhaps nagging him once in a while for doing something stupid. Shirosaki had huge stamina… and could fight for days, it seemed, without tire. So Ichigo was confused. What was the Hollow doing? And… If Shiro was tired, then…

It was then that fear took over Ichigo, stronger than ever.

This was not good, and Shirosaki almost fell off the bed when Ichigo panicked, grabbing the pale cloth adorning Hichigo's equally pale chest, brown eyes wide in pure, unadulterated fear and hysteria. Now THIS was interesting, Shiro mused, seeing that look of all things. If anything, he'd expected a snarky comeback… but instead, got a panicked, "What the hell do you mean, 'overworked'? I haven't asked anything of you in ages, and…" After that, it grew more and more laced with terror, leaving Hichigo to falter. Suddenly, it wasn't so amusing now that Ichigo was about to rip his shirt to shreds in a lapse of emotion… and even Hichigo had limits on how far that tanned face could be wracked with negative emotion. So…

Shiro calmly removed his King's hands, chirping, "Jus' doin' repairs on ya noggin', my King… Ya have this weird thing a'goin' on in tha' world of yours, an' it ain't pretteh."

Of course, the Horse was not taken seriously, and was pushed away angrily. Trust Ichigo to believe every lie that came from those pale lips, but never the truth until it was almost too late. How naive the Strawberry was… With that, Ichigo almost made it out of the bed before being dragged back to his former position, amber eyes drilling into his skull.

"…Ya need t'rest, King. Get ya ass back 'ere. I ain't done talkin'… and I ain't even answered ya yet, let 'lone ask ya somethin'." One glance at the Horse's face made him sigh. There was no arguing with him right now… Those eyes had a determination only Ichigo could match. Seeing as how he really had no choice… Ichigo sat down, eyeing his captor. What he'd give to wipe that smug grin off of the pale man's face… However, the expression immediately turned into concern, unique eyes staring at Ichigo's chest again. "Ya… said ya heart 'urts." Ichigo could only nod. His Hollow had listened to him for once… so the Soul Reaper would try to cooperate, since Shirosaki was being civil…

The Hollow continued on, eyes never straying. "…Ya sad?" Shirosaki remembered that discussion very well…

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_'Slowly, Ichigo shuffled over there to him, lightly punching his arm. "You really are a moron, Shiro. Seriously… If my feelings got hurt or something, I'd tough it out… I mean, you might get rained on, but…"_

_Shiro froze, staring at him. "Hurt? Ya feelin's can hurt?"_

"_Y-Yeah… They… can hurt…"_

"_Where d'they hurt?"_

"…_Your heart, I guess…"_

"_Ya heart?"'_

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Yes, Shirosaki remembered. He wouldn't forget something so different and new to what he had known… and if Ichigo was hurting because he was sad, then it would rain. If it rained, Shiro would be forgotten until it stopped… and that was NOT going to happen.

Of course, Ichigo would deny being upset, no matter what… "…No. I'm fine…" That was a lie. Ichigo had felt absolutely devastated. After all, if Shirosaki was gone, then who would keep himself safe from his inner world? He'd felt lost when that pale hand had fell, tainted with crimson… and whether he'd admit it or not, no one knew him better than the Hollow. After all, sharing a body tended to do that to someone…

If Hichigo knew it was bull (which he was pretty certain it was), he didn't call it, choosing to press on lightly instead. "…But ya heart 'urts."

"Yes."

With that, the Hollow promptly pried Ichigo's hand away from his chest, pale irises scrutinizing it, leaving the Strawberry to blink in surprise.

_Don't tell me… Is he really worried about me getting hurt? Why? I don't… get it. Feels kind of nice, I guess…_

Almost frantically, Shiro searched for damage, lightly tracing his fingers over the aching skin before pulling back, frowning. It seemed to be literally physical. Ichigo would shy away from the touch ever so slightly… but he didn't know if emotions did that or not, so that sort of left him clueless. There was no wound… but… it definitely hurt his King. What was it that humans did to mend aches and pains? Oh, the little brats that Ichigo called siblings used to do it to each other a couple of times. Ichigo'd told him of that… but…

What was it?

And then it dawned on him. Shiro had finally remembered the thing he'd forgotten concerning tending to the ill. It had been bugging him, and he hadn't given up on it… Although, once remembering, he had to wonder just how the method was supposed to work, but oh well…

He was the Horse, and Ichigo was the King… and as the Horse, he was supposed to serve…

Once remembering, Shiro grinned from ear to ear, leaning back with a satisfied gleam in his eye… and immediately, the teen's heart dropped. That was never good… for him, anyway. That usually meant that something was about to be absolutely demolished by those pale hands while Hichigo laughed maniacally. Usually it was something Ichigo'd rather keep intact… like… his furniture. Or his arms. He'd rather they not get broken today, thank you very much…

Instead, Shirosaki tapped Ichigo's noggin, chirping, "Ya know, Kingy, I ain't lyin'. Ya need to come n'look fer ya'self one of these days… at ya noggin', I mean. It's… Well, ya'll see." With that, Shiro pushed Ichigo down, his back firmly against the mattress before the Hollow tossed blankets over the boy, grinning from ear to ear before adding, "Oh, an' ya need t'get some new clothes, eh? Tha' one I foun' in ya closet is jus' weird."

Ichigo almost protested and swore at him…

…but very quickly was silenced when Shiro pressed his pale lips to the teen's forehead tenderly, just like Yuzu and Karin had done in years past when Ichigo fell ill, when they were still young and innocent… rather than the displaying the grown-up façade they tried to pull off now… It was sweet, quick, and innocent…

…but it still left Ichigo speechless and totally confused, watching as his mirror image fading away, quietly adding, "Ya get better, ya hear?"

Hichigo's methods of nursing (or doing anything, for that matter) may be a bit unorthodox at times… but he certainly did try.

So maybe Ichigo would try taking Shirosaki's advice for once…

Just for a change of pace of course…

…and certainly not because he wanted to…

…although he could be wrong…

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**A/N**: **Argh, this chapter feels so short in comparison to the others... Sorry guys. I've been busy... and sick... which is ironic, seeing as how Ichigo just was, you know, ill...**

**Ah, also: Some of you guys tried to predict what the title meant, and I'm happy to say that while most of you are on the right track, none of you guys got it completely. (Well, one got very, very close, but... Not so straight-forward?) From here on out, keep your guesses to yourself... I don't want anybody to ruin it for someone.**

**See you guys soon, seeing as how I'm almost done with Chapter Six, and... I'm still sorry that seemed like a filler. My deepest apologies to those expecting something utterly amazing...**


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